


I Can Feel The Warning Signs

by OnTheWrongSideOfTheBed



Category: Oasis (Band)
Genre: M/M, pretends to be a halloween fic I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27317152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnTheWrongSideOfTheBed/pseuds/OnTheWrongSideOfTheBed
Summary: Liam’s pretty, always, even when he’s fucking disgusting, and Noel gets off on it and Liam in turn gets off on that.
Relationships: Liam Gallagher/Noel Gallagher
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	I Can Feel The Warning Signs

**Author's Note:**

> Comes from [this prompt](https://jeevey.tumblr.com/post/633494858309451776/this-is-your-prompt-reblog-with-a-link-to-your)

Liam is pretty. That’s a fact. Noel knows it, the whole world knows it. But Noel knows it especially. He’s given up on denying it ages ago, instead kind of bathes in it now with a sometimes sweet, more often sick pride. That’s his little brother everybody wants to fuck, that’s his little brother who sings the songs about how Noel wants to fuck him and looks even prettier while doing it - singing or getting fucked, you pick.   
  
It’s one of the sure things that gets Noel going, when he can say _yeah, I do think he’s sexy_ a little too seriously in an interview and gets half a second of a sideways glance before they move on, Noel still lingering in the moment of _being the brother of; relation; ownership_ for the next few questions.  
  
He likes pretty things, he likes Liam. Likes looking at him when they’re fucking, when he’s begging or singing, when that becomes the same thing. He likes it so much he sometimes doesn’t like it at all and finds terrible joy in spoiling it, for himself and for others. When he comes all over Liam’s tear-stained, fucked out face he feels a grim sense of satisfaction, but it’s even better when there are fists and blood and tearing skin open. It feels good, taking what’s his and then breaking it down to pieces that Noel won’t want to own and put his hands all over.   
  
That point’s never been reached, though. Liam still looks pretty with his nose bloodied, his eyes swollen black, half unconscious and still spitting insults and beer-saliva. It’s irritating, infuriating and makes Noel want to black his own eyes when he’s done sucking Liam off in between the scattered shards of what was supposed to be Liam’s beauty, but is only Noel’s beat-up anger or pride or both mixed with too much desire.  
  
Noel thinks Liam knows about it, about Noel not being able to fit all of his prettiness into his hands and needing to break and trample on it, so he also won’t want to. He has to know, and Noel isn’t sure if he wants to help or mock him when he starts one of his little shows, or wants to prove him wrong _just because_ or so right because it seems to be pathetically impossible for Noel not to think he's pretty. They usually happen after one of those times where Noel has to mention just how pretty he thinks Liam is in an interview, but afterwards doesn’t behave the way Liam thinks is appropriate following such a declaration. Liam has this little ritual of giving Noel a long, sometimes scarily knowing look before going on to try and do the most disgusting things with his face, distort all his perfect features and make Noel’s hands twitch with the urge to slap him back into his pretty form. It’s like as soon as Liam tries to give him what he wants he doesn’t want it anymore, or maybe he can’t want it anymore when he gets it on Liam’s terms.  
  
Today he hasn’t given any kind of interview or mentioned how good-looking his singer was anywhere else, but it’s Halloween and maybe shoving the wrappers of various sweets up his nostrils and parading around the room imitating what Noel assumes to be a dying walrus is Liam’s way of getting into the appropriate mood. Somehow he’s made it into Noel’s home and his bedroom where Noel is lying in his bed, covered by expensive silk because if he can afford to be a diva he might as well do it.  
  
He’d been planning on trying to overdose on sweets for a change, had found a sinfully cheap family pack, and he might be able to afford diva-hood but that doesn’t mean he has to say no to a good little bargain. To be fair, he’d made up for it by buying the expensive kind of liquor and downed enough of it in the time it would’ve taken him to think about if he really needed the cheap sweets before Liam’s pretty voice started making him millions.  
  
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t throw Liam out immediately when he also grabs the plastic bag Noel carried the sweets in and starts pulling it over his head to present his grimaces in what he apparently thinks to be a more effective way. It kind of works, pressing his tongue against the plastic and making his eyes bulge out and trying to rip holes into it with his little sharp teeth makes him look fucking absurd and then Noel wish he finally dropped dead from lack of oxygen. But Liam always had an uncanny way of surviving situations he put himself in that should’ve killed him about three times each and he seems to be far from dropping dead, giving Noel longer glances and stomping around more insistently.  
  
The thing is, Noel should be appalled, but he’s far from it. He’s semi-hard under the silk, got there when Liam’s tongue started to play an important role in his little performance and he’s just getting harder with every twist and turn of Liam’s face behind the thin plastic. He looks insane, worse than a toddler having a melt-down, and certainly not pretty, but still the part of Noel’s brain that’s still semi-functioning supplies him with _pretty pretty pretty_ as his eyes follow Liam through the third act of his show.  
  
His hand slips in his pants and then the silk slips from him, and his cock out of his pants and he’s wanking himself off to Liam’s face in a plastic bag, staring at him with pretend-dead eyes. It’s just this once, it’s just _sarcasm_ because it’s Halloween and Liam needs to be thrown off his rhythm a little, it’s just whatever. It’s Noel with his dick in his hand and starting to get wet with precome and feeling _good_ , and Liam’s still got his face pressed up against the plastic but now his tongue's out in a different way and he’s drawing shapes against the plastic, and under the lense of normalcy, through fucking anybody else’s eyes it’d be ugly, at the most something to laugh at, but it makes Noel’s cock twitch in his hand.  
  
Liam’s kneeling on the bed now and Noel can hear him breathing too wetly into the plastic bag and he can also hear the thoughts leaking out with his spit that contemplate whether he wants to keep giving Noel the picture of probably clinical insanity or if he wants to give in to his overwhelming instinct to be pretty and gorgeous and good. He ends up with a mix of both, which seems kind of fitting. His head stays inside the plastic bag, but he’s giving Noel these eyes and then these lips and Noel’s hand moves faster over his cock.   
  
He isn’t sure how Liam keeps breathing, he doesn’t seem to have left room somewhere for air to get in and Noel finds himself with the image of coming all over Liam’s lifeless body. That’s disgusting, makes his skin itch and his fingers twitch, and more precome is running down his cock. Liam bends his head down to his cock like he’s about to take Noel in his mouth, only there’s a layer of plastic preventing Noel’s dick from getting in. The fucking wrong way to put a condom on, he wants to tell Liam, but he only keeps stroking his cock, angled more towards Liam’s face now.  
  
It doesn’t take him long, he’d be a bit embarrassed if this whole thing didn’t require the complete inability to feel shame. A few more strokes, a few more wishes of breaking through the plastic and into Liam’s mouth and Noel comes all over it, on Liam’s eyes and his cheekbones and his wide open mouth and Liam blinks at him hectically like he’s really got Noel’s come in his lashes. He looks dirty and weird and not like something that should have Noel still shuddering through the last waves of his orgasm. He looks like Noel should shove him out of his bed and into the bin and not like he should let Liam pull off the plastic and then get him out of his trousers himself and toss him off with quick strokes while Liam’s breathing gets even more wet and erratic against his ear.   
  
But maybe that’s just the way it is with him, with them. Liam’s pretty, always, even when he’s fucking disgusting, and Noel gets off on it and Liam in turn gets off on that. And it is Halloween, Noel supposes, and maybe wanking to his brother making grimaces inside a plastic bag counts as his way of being a little appropriately scary.


End file.
